


The Light Behind Your Eyes

by lichtenstrange



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crying, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post Season 8, im so sorry, it's a gloomy day today, well not much comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:04:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lichtenstrange/pseuds/lichtenstrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean, Castiel, and Sam have tracked down Abaddon and have a plan to take her down. Unfortunately, she gains the upper hand and when three try to escape, only two survive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Light Behind Your Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry, I just get a lot of feels about this song.  
> Elements of Star Trek and Torchwood, so don't say I didn't say anything.

It wasn’t meant to end like this.  
  
After months of working together since Cas finally got back to the Winchesters, they’d found Abaddon working in an office block overrun by demons. With Crowley out of the picture (and in their basement), she had risen into power and became the Queen of Hell, hell-bent on taking the world.  
  
They thought they had it planned out; go in, divide and conquer (distract and attack), and get the hell outta dodge. But of course that isn’t what was going to happen. Instead, she would get the upper hand and have them running for their lives. She had released gas throughout part of the building (of course, it was the part they were in as they faced her). The trio ran through the hallways, the air slowly becoming harder to breathe. But that wasn’t all she had. An alarm began to ring, soon followed by systematic thumping of doors closing. The bitch had activated lockdown to seal them in. In front of them, the sliding doors began to close. They pumped their legs harder, pushing themselves to the limit to escape her manicured claws.  
  
They got away.  
  
Except for one.  
  
The muffled shout of “Dean” stopped the brothers in their tracks. Turning around, Dean was met with the one of the worst sights that would forever haunt him.  
  
“No!” The door held tight between Castiel and the brothers, Dean trying and unsuccessfully wedging the doors open. “Get this door open,” he shouted at Sam, who was attempting to hotwire the system.  
  
“I’m trying, Dean.”  
  
“Well try harder!” The gas was getting stronger on Castiel’s side, his freshly human body struggling to survive. He tried taking smaller breaths, hoping he can conserve energy by remaining calm. “Cas, stand back.” Doing as Dean said, he moved to the side as Dean pulled his gun out and shot at the doors.  
  
“Dean,” Cas wheezed. “The glass is bulletproof. You know that.” He moved back, standing opposite Dean who was banging his fist against the glass where the bullet was buried. “Get out of here before you get trapped too.” He began to feel a little dizzy, his knees beginning to shake a bit.  
  
“No, I am not leaving you behind again.” Dean kept looking for a way to open the doors, slowly getting more and more frantic. “Goddammit there has to be a way to get these fucking doors open!” he shouted.  
  
“There isn’t, they’re sealed.” Cas sat on the cold ground, leaning this forehead to the glass. Dean continued to yell and bang against the glass. “Dean.” The hunter didn’t stop, “Dean, please stop.”  
  
“No, not until I get you out!” Dean shouted.  
  
“I’m not getting out, Dean. Just stop and sit with me? Please?”  
  
“No, Cas, I’m not going to just let you die!”  
  
“You’re making me sad and it hurts.” Dean stopped then, hearing the small shake in Castiel’s voice. He fell to the ground with no grace, pressing his hand to the glass where Castiel’s face was. “It’s going to be okay, Dean.”  
  
“No,” Dean’s voice cracked. “Don’t go telling me it’s gonna be fine when it sure as hell isn’t.” There wasn’t any point trying not to cry at this point, considering the one person other than Sam that means the world to him is dying in front of him and he can’t even hold them.  
  
“Listen to me,” Castiel’s breath was getting more shallow, words harder to say. “You will get to Heaven. You’ve done too much good in this world to not earn that. I will be there waiting for you. Just… don’t go rushing it, okay?” Dean nodded.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
“Love you, assbutt.” A small smile graced Castiel’s weary face.  
  
“Love you too.”  
  
They sat there, Dean watching Cas as he began to drift into a deep sleep. Eventually, Cas slumped on the glass, chest coming to a stabbing halt.  
  
“Dean, we have to go.” Sam lightly tugged his older brother’s shoulder, doing his best to keep himself together. “We’re still in danger. I’m sorry, Dean.”  
  
“I can’t leave him here.”  
  
“Dean we don’t have a choice.”  
  
“We can’t leave him! Those sons of bitches will use him as a meatsuit!” Sam struggled with his brother’s fighting body, trying to stop him from running back to the doors that separated him from his angel, his shouts almost deafening. By the time they got to the Impala, Sam had to hit Dean to get him in the car so they could get away. It hurt him to see Dean like this.  
  
When they returned to the bunker, Dean sealed himself in his room. Sam could hear shouting and things crashing and shattering from down the hall, knowing how the disaster area within the room would look. It didn’t help that Dean stayed in that room for two days. Sam knocked on the door, waiting for Dean to unlock it so he could give him food. But he never got a reply. He only knew Dean was still alive from the occasional crash that came from behind the door.  
  
Eventually, Sam picked the lock to Dean’s door and let himself in, carrying food for him to eat. The room was a pretty good reflection of how Dean felt, Sam thought. The guns he proudly displayed on his wall were on the ground, some broken apart with bits scattered, the record collection next to the player also scattered around on the ground, a Beatles record half on the player, the lamp smashed and lying beside the set of drawers. The one thing not touched or damaged was the photo of Dean and their mother. Dean himself was sat on the floor, back leaning against his bed. There was a pillow lying next to him, one of the two that lived on his bed when Castiel returned to them.  
  
Dean didn’t look up when Sam entered, or when he sat next to him, or when he rested a hand to his momentarily still shoulder. But it didn’t last. He began crying again as he had done since those doors closed. Sam felt a few tears of his own escape down his cheek, trying desperately to comfort his brother. In the end, Dean leaned into Sam, large arms circling his now heavily trembling shoulders. No matter what they did, it always ended up just being a family of two.


End file.
